


The Wheel Breaks

by idontevenknowugh



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Couch Cuddles, Established Relationship, Guilt, Heavy Petting, Hurt/Comfort, Impact Play, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light Bondage, M/M, Multi, Spanking, SpicyKustard, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, sensative bones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 00:00:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17293826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idontevenknowugh/pseuds/idontevenknowugh
Summary: “Welcome back,” Papyrus said carefully. Sans nuzzled against Blue’s scapula, adding some comfort to the statement. They all knew that, as much as they enjoyed seeing each other, it was never actually good when they did.





	The Wheel Breaks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [knowmeknot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/knowmeknot/gifts).



> This is a Secret Santa gift for [Noh](https://www.pillowfort.io/knowmeknot)! I hope you like it, sweetie! <3 
> 
> And, just because I tend to do it differently, calling out that I've gone with Sans for UF Sans and Blue for UT Sans. It made more sense for this story.

  
“Red…”  
  
Sans turned, the brief flare of excitement dying at what he saw. Blue, the other him, with the tired white eyelights and matching slouch, was standing a few yards away. He had his hands in his pockets. like always. A grin graced his skill. His was face completely dry.  
  
But it was there, in all the subtle signs. He wouldn't hold Sans’s gaze. His left knee was trembling. There was a twitch in that smile.  
  
“What is it?” Red asked, fear holding him frozen on the second step of their porch.  
  
“He’s dead…”  
  
Sans sagged with grief and a little bit of relief. Papyrus dying was a crushing, but necessary, part of the cruel cycle they were caught in. He would come back when it all restarted. Blue had had him worried it was something more out of the ordinary.  
  
As Sans turned the rest of the way, Blue’s smile seemed to melt, sliding down his face like vice cream left in the sun. It brought tears with it. They made shining tracks down Blue’s smooth skull. With a grunt, Sans hopped off the steps and ran to Blue, shoelaces whipping around his ankles.  
  
“Woah, hey, I gotcha,” Sans whispered. Blue collapsed the moment Sans reached him. All Sans could manage was to grab onto his hoodie and slow his decent. They both ended up on their knees in the snow. Sans’s arms were around Blue, while Blue’s skull rested on Sans's shoulder.  
  
“I gotcha,” he repeated, rubbing Blue’s back. Some of the cycles were worse than others, like when the human came through and only killed Papyrus. It was like they had taken a scalpel and cut everything good out of the world, and left them to rot in what was left. Still, he had never seen Blue take it this hard.  
  
Blue sobbed into his jacket. His hands clutched at Sans. Sans let him, providing Blue a place to cry it out. A rabbit walked past them on their way to waterfall. They slowed, staring blatantly at Sans and Blue.  
  
“Scram,” Sans growled. They jumped and sped up. He caught them peeking over their shoulder one last time before they entered the caves, though. He would need to remember their face, so he could help _them_ remember that prying was rude.  
  
“Come on, not far, and we can be inside and talk,” he encouraged Blue, pulling at his arms as he stood back up. Blue didn't stand with him. He sat in the snow, looking at nothing and crying. It unnerved Sans. They both had been through so many cycles, bad ones, but this time had broken something in Blue.  
  
“Don't,” Blue made a shuddering noise, “Don’t pity me. I don't deserve it.” Red paused, his grip on Blue easing. If he couldn't get him moving, they might have to take a shortcut.  
  
“I _deserve_ to be punished,” Blue wailed and collapsed further, like he was throwing himself at Sans’s feet. Sans took a step back, uncomfortable.  
  
“Who can stand there and watch their brother be murdered? And do _nothing_!” Blue cried into the snow. “Please, Red,” he touched Sans’s ankle. “Please, punish me.”  
  
Sans couldn't think of what to do with that. He knew one thing, for certain, though. They needed to get inside.  
  
“Hold on,” he pleaded softly. It felt like Blue might turn to dust if left with his grief too long. Sans hauled Blue up and into his arms, tucking their bodies as close together as he could manage. Blue didn't struggle, but he sure didn't help. After inky blackness swallowed them up and spit them back out, Sans released him with a sigh and shook out his burning arms.  
  
“I can't stand it anymore,” Blue cried. He fell back into a huddled, sobbing heap. Sans knelt back down, covering Blue in a haphazard embrace.  
  
“It's awful, but not your fault,” he whispered harshly, struggling to keep his own emotions in check. “It's never your fault.”  
  
“Punish me,” Blue pleaded again. “I need to pay for my sins.” He started to wriggle underneath Sans. Sans moved aside, glad that at least Blue was moving. Sitting back on his heels, Sans watched Blue tug off his jacket, which was wet from the snow. It slapped sharply against the floor as it fell. Blue pulled his shirt up, but he was too distraught to do it smoothly. His body started to shake partway through, and he stopped with the shirt still covering his skull and arms. He struggled briefly. Then, just like that, the urgency left him, and he drooped towards the floor, still tangled in his shirt.  
  
“Okay, here, let me,” Sans reached out and got the shirt loose, pulling it gently over Blue’s skull. As it came free Blue flinched, curling into himself. “We’ll get you some warm clothes.” Sans stroked Blue’s skull, looking him over for injuries out of habit. He was scarless, as always. Sans smiled and touched his spine softly. The unblemished bone always delighted him.  
  
“No!” Blue sat up suddenly, and Sans jerked away from him with a gasp. He'd almost started an attack. He thought Blue knew better than to startle them, by now.  
  
“No warmth. I don't deserve it. Not when his dust is out there,” he choked, his face twisting into a grimace. A sob tore its way out of him. “Please, Red… you… you know…” he looked around the house, empty except for them.  
  
“He’s training,” Sans said quickly. “He doesn't train on the day they come. He'll be home soon.”  
  
Blue nodded and smiled softly. Sans didn't bother feeling relieved, something he was glad for a moment later.  
  
“I need you to tell me it's wrong,” Blue rasped, staring absently at the couch. “I need you to hurt me and tell me that I’m bad for it.”  
  
The bleak way he said it broke Sans’s resolve. Sans wished that Blue would listen to him and take some other, any other, kind of comfort. Blue had the air of someone who had run out of options. He hadn’t, but he didn’t seem to know that.  
  
“Come on,” Sans offered Blue his hand to help him up. Blue turned and looked at him. His face was streaked with half-dried tear tracks. “I’ll do it,” Sans clarified when Blue didn't move to take his hand. The relief on Blue’s face was devastating.  
  
Blue accepted his help up and followed meekly as Sans led him up the stairs and to the bedroom. He trusted Sans to do it. Sans could have led him anywhere. He could refuse once Blue was bound to the bed. He could use that trust to stop this from happening.  
  
Sans silently took Blue over to the bed. It was still messy from Sans getting up. Papyrus had already been gone by the time he went to work. He did his best to smooth out the covers so it wouldn't be uncomfortable for Blue.  
  
“Lay down,” Sans prompted him sadly. Blue did, stripping the rest of the way first, and then positioning himself face down. That hadn't been what Sans meant, but he didn't have the heart to tell him to move. The straps were right where they had been last time Blue came over. He knew where to put his arms so Sans could fasten the cuffs around his carpels. His legs were next, and then Blue was stretched across the bed, naked and perfect. Sans watched as he nuzzled his face into the sheets and let out a long, shuddering, sob.  
  
“Red?” He asked, when the silence dragged on. Sans was frozen, caught between the decisions before him. If he gave in and did what Blue wanted, he would be hurting him for nothing. It wouldn't stop his brother from dying. It wouldn't stop him from having to witness it. Sans was pretty sure this punishment wouldn't make him feel the least bit better, either.  
  
If he didn't do it, he would be breaking Blue’s trust. It had taken dozens of resets to earn it, and it was still fragile.  
  
“One.. one second,” Sans rasped and stumbled over to the closet. Who knew where Blue would turn if Sans didn't do this. At least Sans could keep things safe. He grabbed a wide paddle that would distribute the force. He knew it was a weak justification, but he just couldn't say no to that broken plea.  
  
Blue wasn’t moving, or even making any noise. Sans almost would have thought- hoped- that he was asleep, but there was a growing wet spot near his sockets. Sans drooped and set the paddle down on the bed.  
  
“You don't have to do this,” Sans whispered. “You haven't done anything wrong.”  
  
“I did,” Blue sniffled. “I watched my little brother die. Tell me it's wrong.”  
  
“It… It’s wrong that you have to d-do it,” Sans stumbled out. Blue nodded and turned his face into the mattress. Sans waited, but he didn't say anything more.  
  
Since Blue didn’t released Sans from his promise, he picked up the paddle again. It felt strange in his hand. In any other situation, having Blue spread out like this was exciting. He would jump at the chance to do lots of wicked things to him.  
  
Right now, lifting the paddle felt empty. Sans hesitated, then brought it down in a strike Papyrus would have sniffed at. It barely made a noise, which was then covered up by Blue’s gasp of surprise. Sans waited again, hoping that Blue would change his mind.  
  
“More,” was all he got.  
  
Sans stuck him again, just as softly. Blue kept crying. Again. And again. Sans felt himself tear up and paused wipe at his sockets.  
  
“Punish me,” Blue begged again. Sans hunched into himself and swung a little harder. There was more of a smack, even though it was still a pretty weak swing.  
  
It took a lot more effort to raise the paddle the next time. Sorrow was making Sans’s bones heavy. Blue was in so much pain, and Sans didn't know how to _really_ help. His arm went limp once it had achieved the journey to bring the paddle above Blue.  
  
The paddle came down harder than he intended, landing on Blue’s pelvis with a crack. He cried out sharply, startling Sans. The paddle slipped out of his hand and fell to the floor.  
  
“Blue,” Sans rushed to the head of the bed to check on him. Blue was weeping, but Sans wasn't sure if it was from pain or grief.  
  
“Please,” San stroked Blue’s skull. “Don't-”  
  
“Sans!”  
  
Sans was already tense. Papyrus bursting loudly into the room made him squeak and form attacks around the bed. He glared at the intruder with sharp, red eyelights, unrecognizing. All he could think about was how helpless Blue was right now.  
  
Papyrus stared back at him, his fist clenched as if he was barely keeping himself from lashing out. He scowled at Sans, looking over his waiting bullets, to Blue’s restrained form, and finally to Sans’s sockets.  
  
“Sans,” he said calmly, but there was unease under lying his words. “What’s going on?”  
  
“Bro,” Sans gasped. He let his bullets fade away, the intent to attack disappearing as his thoughts started up again. Relief surged through him. “Bro, Blue…” He turned back to the bed.  
  
Blue was trembling, his face hidden. Sans was shaking as he undid the restraints. Even after the last one came undone he didn't get up. Papyrus watched patiently as Sans worked silently. When Sans was done, he walked up and looked Blue over.  
  
“What the fuck were you two doing?” He snapped, turning a glare on Sans. As he stepped towards the head of the bed, his boot landed on the paddle. Sans was given a break by a quick glance down and furrowed brow bone. Before he could continue, Blue spoke up.  
  
“Pap- Edge, please…” Blue sat up, moving slowly.  
  
“No,” Sans reached out for Blue, and Papyrus shot the glare at him again. Sans flinched and pulled his arm back.  
  
“Edge, punish me.”  
  
When Papyrus looked over at Blue, his expression eased to somewhat interested.  
  
“Have you been bad?” He asked, making a tentative grasp at a common role play for them. Sans looked away.  
  
“Yes,” Blue wailed. “I’ve done something horrible.”  
  
Papyrus frowned. He clenched his fists, making his gloves creak. Sans could see him thinking, trying to decide if this was a scene to interrupt or join. Sans should have stepped in to explain, but the words were stuck. It felt too much like judging Blue to lay it all out, as though he was wrong for mourning his brother.  
  
“What did you do?” Papyrus finally asked, stepping closer and catching Blue’s mandible in his hand. There was a subtle jerk as Blue tried to look away and Papyrus stopped him. “Confess.” His voice was silky smooth, inviting.  
  
“I… I… Papyrus died- was killed,” Blue whispered. The only hint of a reaction Papyrus gave away was stiffening slightly. “And I saw it. I saw him turn to dust, and I didn't do anything. I just watched…”  
  
Blue trailed off as he started to cry again. He didn't try to hide his tears. They were big, fat drops that left branching, shining paths down his face. His mouth opened as much as Papyrus’s grip allowed, to let the sobs spill out.  
  
Papyrus removed his hand, jerking back from Blue with a brisk motion. He gave Sans another look, but it had become worried. Sans tilted his skull, hoping Papyrus would read it as “we need to talk”. Instead, Papyrus sat down on the bed next to Blue.  
  
“Blue… I’m sorry,” Papyrus said plainly. “I forgive you. He forgives you.”  
  
Blue stopped sobbing with a gasp. He looked longingly at Papyrus, then promptly fell against him as he started again. Sans’s shoulders eased. There was something different, this time. The broken quality was gone, leaving just the grief. Papyrus wrapped his arms around Blue, holding him close.  
  
While Blue’s face was hidden, Papyrus turned to Sans. There weren't any answers to be had. There was no way Blue’s brother had died in any particularly awful manner. It was the same script, every time. That very thing kept Blue from taking action. He could only chose his actions once it was over. When they went well, he would stay on the surface with his brother.  
  
When they didn’t, he came to them.  
  
Blue’s crying slowed gradually, eventually stopping. Sans could see the moment he drifted off. He slumped in Papyrus’a arms, his skull lolling to the side and coming to a rest against Papyrus's humerus.  
  
Papyrus sighed and set him down, sliding him onto the bed gently. He was always extra careful with Blue. Sans understood.  
  
“What the fuck?” Papyrus hissed as he draped a deep red blanket over Blue. Sans put a finger over his mouth and led Papyrus out into the hall. Papyrus switched the light off and followed, leaving the door cracked. Blue would probably have a nightmare, when the exhaustion wore off.  
  
“You didn't see him,” Sans whispered back as they crept downstairs. “He looked about ready to fall down.”  
  
“And so your answer was a scene? There's horny, and there’s this. It’s a whole new low.” Papyrus took his spot on the couch and crossed his legs. Sans sat down on the opposite side and glared at him.  
  
“It was not,” Sans slouched against the side, staring at the ceiling. “It wasn't a scene, and it sure as fuck wasn't my idea.” Papyrus didn't say anything. Blue had begged him for punishment, too.  
  
“Well then, why did you go along with it?”  
  
Sans frowned. He had all his rationale, his what if's. He could tell Papyrus about how Blue had fallen at his feet, and the despair in his voice.  
  
“Because I get it,” he said. Papyrus turned towards him so fast the motion traveled through the couch. Sans watched him from the bottom of his sockets.  
  
“Have you ever…?” It was strange hearing his brother so hesitant.  
  
“No, I've never gone to an alternate world and asked myself to beat me. The guilt… I get the guilt.”  
  
Papyrus was silent. Him finding out about Blue and alternate worlds had inevitably led to him learning about the script, time resetting, and all the baggage that came along with. The third time, Sans was pretty sure, Blue had come before their story started.Even though Papyrus still couldn't remember the actual cycles, he always remembered Blue.  
  
It had changed things between them, especially when Blue broke down and admitted his brother had died in front of Papyrus. Sans hadn’t managed a single word to try and spin the revelation before Papyrus understood that if it happened to Blue’s brother… He had realized that Sans had to live through it every time. Nothing could be the same after that. Papyrus had become more understanding, more tender, towards Sans.  
  
It was awful. He felt guilty for dying.  
  
“So, what do we do?” Papyrus asked. Sans resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Just because he empathized with Blue didn't mean he had any answers. He could also comprehend the desperate need for a solution, though. Maybe that was his problem. He always understood what it was like to feel lost.  
  
“We take care of him,” Sans said, because he didn't know what else to do. They couldn't abandon Blue. He had become one of them, despite being a fool who believed the best of monsters, or maybe because of it. He believed in them, too. “We can't change his life, anymore than we can change our own.”  
  
Papyrus’s jaw parted in a snarl that spoke volumes. To this day, he was determined to find a way out of the script. Sans believed his brother could do just about everything. He just couldn't let himself hope on that count. It was too far fetched. The disappointment would be too painful.  
  
“I refuse to believe that,” Papyrus declared, quietly, and slid down the couch towards Sans. “There has to be something we can do.”  
  
“Bro,” Sans lifted his skull to reply.  
  
“Red? Edge?” Blue’s soft voice from the top of the stairs stalled Sans’s thoughts. That hadn't been much sleep at all. The nightmares must have come on quickly.  
  
“Down here,” Papyrus called back, and footsteps started down the stairs. Blue came into view wrapped in one of Sans’s more beat up hoodies. It was grey, he supposed, but was sporting so many stains it was hard to tell. One sleeve was ripped, and a bit of bone showed through. Blue hadn't even bothered to zip up. He had it pulled around himself, his hands gripping the zipper edges a little too tight. He hadn't bothered with pants, either.  
  
When he reached the bottom, he didn't stop, but practically dove onto the couch directly between them. His legs curled up as he nestled into the space between them, which was tight enough that he was touching them both. His skull flopped down onto Papyrus's shoulder, but is arms stayed tightly around his ribs.  
  
Sans smiled sadly and turned his body to curl against Blue’s. Papyrus shifted over so they were more compressed around him. He brought one hand up to stroke the side of Blue’s skull.  
  
“Welcome back,” Papyrus said carefully. Sans nuzzled against Blue’s scapula, adding some comfort to the statement. They all knew that, as much as they enjoyed seeing each other, it was never actually good when they did.  
  
Blue sighed shakily. Sans felt the tremors and tensed, but Blue didn't start crying again. He rubbed his face against Papyrus and just sighed. Sans absently stoked Blue’s arm, wishing he would let go of the sweatshirt, but he wouldn't insist.  
  
They stayed like that for a while. Papyrus wrapped one of his arms around Blue and Sans, holding them all together. Sans started to drift off, because why wouldn't he. It was warm and dark, and he had Blue pressed against him. Papyrus was watching them with even, red eyelights. Sans could have happily spent the night like that. However, he was jostled just as he was about to fall asleep.  
  
“Jusss sleep a bit, bro,” he muttered. “Ain't gonna hurt ya.”  
  
“Hm?” Papyrus replied.  
  
Sans shook himself awake and met Papyrus’s socket over a surprisingly wriggly Blue. He expected Blue to be just as quick to sleep as he was. Groggily, Sans leaned back to give Blue some more room, and the other skeleton took it, turning to face him and tuck his skull under Sans’s chin. Sans smiled and nuzzled the top of his skull. He rubbed Blue’s spine through the sweatshirt, noting that it had fallen open to show off Blue’s perfect ribs.  
  
His hand wandered across Blue’s side to rub at one of them. Blue shivered against him and tucked himself even closer. Papyrus took up petting the back of Blue’s skull and down his spine. They would take care of him, and help him through this.  
  
Blue sighed against Sans’s neck. He stilled, and Sans thought that he had finally gone to sleep again, until hesitant fingers brushed against his chest. Blue played with his shirt for a moment, pinching the fabric between his fingers and twisting it. Sans watched him, half asleep, wondering what he was thinking about. Eventually, Blue smoothed out the fabric, but he didn't stop running his hand over Sans’s sternum after it was laying flat. Sans smiled, humming softly. The soft touches felt nice. He kept tracing Blue’s ribs, using one finger to follow the bones in random patterns.  
  
An answering rumble of sound came from Blue. His hand wandered to caress Sans’s clavicle. A glance at Papyrus showed him giving them a soft look while he softly stroked along Blue’s spine. He was sitting sideways on the couch to face them, his skull propped on his arm against the back. When he noticed Sans’s gaze, he smiled and nodded. For now, this was enough for him. He would try and fix the world tomorrow.  
  
“Red…” Blue whispered, drawing Sans’s attention back to him. He wriggled slightly, exposing more of his ribs to Sans’s touch. Sans pressed his teeth to Blue’s and explored the new pathways.  
  
Blue nudged his skull up to increase the pressure. Their teeth ground together, and Sans shivered. There was the edge of something desperate in the way Blue grabbed his shirt to keep him from pulling away. Sans didn’t resist, nuzzling Blue and switching from light touches to holding him around the ribs and stroking his thumbs along the ridges.  
  
Blue moaned against his mouth, much louder than Sans would have expected. Following Papyrus’s down turned sockets led Sans to glimpse long, gloveless, fingers running teasingly along Blue’s sacrum. So that was the plan. It would distract Blue and help him sleep. If that was the best they could do, that’s what they would do.  
  
Sans slid his hands down Blue’s ribs, taking it slow, until they reached his pelvis. His fingers brushed Papyrus’s, and Sans paused for a moment before rubbing his way down Blue’s ilium. Blue shivered and leaned into Sans.  
  
Papyrus leaned forward, trapping Blue’s back while he tickled the tip of his coccyx. Blue whined and shuddered. His legs kicked a little, but he wasn't trying to get free. Once he got some purchase on the couch, he used it to thrust into Sans’s hand. Sans smirked and cupped the front of his pelvis, giving him something to rut against.  
  
Blue moaned much more loudly and took him up on it, jerking his hips back and forth between Sans and Papyrus. The sounds of pleasure didn't really stop from there, until Papyrus took Blue’s arm and gently pulled him so he was sitting against the back of the couch between them. Sans’s hand fell away.  
  
Blue kept his feet on the couch, bending his knees and spreading them. He was a tantalizing sight, opened up for them with just Sans’s unzipped hoodie hanging from his shoulders. He’d given up on covering himself with it, which Sans liked just fine.  
  
Papyrus took up the work of stimulating Blue’s pelvic symphysis, so Sans went for the inside of his sacrum. His fingers bounced along the holes, prompting a long, low groan from Blue. Sans kept going, running them along the inside of Blue’s inlet. When he reached the front, the other side of the joint Papyrus was teasing, Blue wailed, thrusting into Papyrus's hand.  
  
“Too much?” Papyrus asked, his touch lightening. Blue shook his skull aggressively.  
  
“More,” he groaned, facing Papyrus. Sans watched his brother lean in to kiss Blue at the same time he rubbed firmly along the joint, Blue arched. His mouth slid from Papyrus’s mouth to his neck. Face buried there, he let fort a series of cries that sounded somewhere between pleasure and anguish. Sans stopped touching him for a moment, looking to Papyrus for guidance.  
  
He didn’t let up. Blue wailed and gasped against him, but Papyrus had a determined, if a little grim, expression as he pleasured him. Sans stayed out of the way, petting Blue’s ribs as a gentle counterpoint. He only faltered when he heard what he thought might be a sob. Papyrus, of course, didn't, and soon Blue was arching up off the couch with a shout. He stayed like that, tense in their arms, as Papyrus continued to stroke his pelvis.  
  
Suddenly, he fell back against the couch. Papyrus pulled his hand away, but otherwise stayed in place. Blue gradually closed his legs, curling up again, against Papyrus this time. Papyrus shifted just enough to sit back, pulling Blue with him so that he was laying on him. Sans ketch gently rubbing Blue’s shoulder until he was clearly asleep. It happened quickly, as he usually did right after sex.  
  
“Well, that was,” Papyrus hesitated, “better.” He spoke softly, his voice quiet and rough. Sans looked at Blue and frowned. Was it? He still couldn't see his face, but he had a feeling there would be tear tracks.  
  
“So, what now?” Sans asked. “The next time isn't going to be any better.”  
  
Papyrus carefully cupped the side of Blue’s skull.  
  
“Then we’ll just have to keep taking care of him.”  
  
“By distracting him with sex?”  
  
“Do you have any better ideas, Sans?”  
  
“No…” Sans admitted. He curled up against Blue. He hoped that it would be enough to keep Blue going.  
  
He had a really bad feeling it wouldn't.


End file.
